Young & Beautiful
by Glitter Poisoned My Blood
Summary: With a bit of accidental magic, Hermione and Harry are sent back to the 40's in a Hogwarts ruled by a young Tom Riddle, and a world in danger of Grindlewald. Will Harry and Hermione ever be able to return? And why is Tom so interested in the Dumbledore siblings? In the midst of being pursued by the Dark Lord, Hermione Dumbledore; what will you do? Rated T for now. Tom/Hermione
1. Yayo

Hey everyone! So after being obsessed with reading Tom/Hermione fanfics for a couple of years now, I've decided to write my own, taking place during the Deathly Hallows. All will be explained, but for now, just jump right in and enjoy the ride! As you can probably tell form the title, I worship Queen Lana and I love The Great Gatsby. I would recommend listening to Young & Beautiful DH Orchestral version while reading, since that was what it was written to! Enjoy!

I'll say this once, and once only - I own nothing. At all. I have a pair of Loboutins and a Chanel bag, but not a writing deal, k?

* * *

A loud crack came through the sky that caused Albus Dumbledore to look up from his desk and out towards the window. A young woman and a young man were falling from the sky!

How curious…

* * *

Hermione jolted awake when a severe nudge to the side surprised her from her daze.

"H-Harry… We're at Hogwarts?"

He nodded solemnly.

"But… That's not possible! You can't apparate into-"

"Which is why I wonder Miss, how you both are here."

"Du-Dumbledore?"

"Yes, I am Professor Dumbledore. You have heard of me, then?"

"You're dead!" cried Harry, "I- Hermione, this must be fake. He's _dead_."

"I am not dead, yet. Tell me, when are you from?"

"When?" Hermione questioned curiously. "What is the date?"

"August 1st 1944."

Harry choked on his breath and staggered to stand. "19… 44?"

"But… how? How could that have happened?"

"I don't know. We were in the house. Nagini struck, and the curse ricocheted all around the room… but… that doesn't explain how we're here."

"Maybe the why is more important than the how," Dumbledore spoke, eyes twinkling behind his spectacles.

"The why?"

"Well of course, dear. The how is never as important as the _why_. For example, I don't care _how_ chocolate frogs move. I care why. And the reason is most definitely to force me to buy more of them, as they always seem to get away."

The teenagers shared a look.

"He's serious," Harry whispered.

They figured out the why approximately four weeks later. Seventeen year old Harry Potter was sorted into Slytherin house. Eighteen year old Hermione Granger was sorted into Ravenclaw. She was also asked to be Head Girl. Dumbledore had convinced Headmaster Dippet (Headmaster Dipshit in Harry's words) that Hermione would be a perfect candidate for the 1944-1945 school year's Head Girl.

"Professor Dumbledore's son and daughter, Hermione and Harry Dumbledore will also be joining us this school year. Please make an effort to make them both feel welcome. Miss Dumbledore will also be taking the daunting task as Head Girl, alongside Tom Riddle."

From across the room, both future Gryffindor students shared a look of horror.

Tom Riddle was the why.

* * *

As Head Girl, Hermione had to brief the prefects of their duties for the year. She ignored the eyes boring into her head from her left. She would not acknowledge Riddle until she had to.

"I'm sure we haven't had the pleasure to meet yet, Miss Dumbledore. I am Tom Riddle," he spoke in a smooth and velvet voice.

Hermione turned to him, and took the hand that he extended. He kissed it.

"I am Hermione Dumbledore. It is quite nice to meet you. Mr. Riddle."

"Please, call me Tom."

"Of course."

After the prefects meeting, Hermione strolled to her Head Girl dormitory.

Tom was following behind her.

"Please, Miss Dumbledore, allow me to walk you to your rooms."

"There isn't a need, Tom. I know my way. Do call me Hermione. It is after all, my name."

"I insist, Hermione. You never know the dark… creatures that may lurk within the walls of Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts is quite safe," Hermione sniffed, "My father has told me lovely things about the security here."

Tom took strides beside Hermione silently.

"_Belladonna," _Hermione said. Tom followed her into their shared quarters.

"Belladonna?" he repeated, "Why would an innocent Ravenclaw choose such a deadly poison?"

"Because sometimes, Tom Riddle, things that are beautiful are more dangerous than sin."

* * *

Hermione, Harry and Tom had almost all of their classes together. During Hermione and Tom's period of Arithmancy, Harry took Divination. Other than that, Hermione took nearly every class. The classes in 1944 were something different than in her time. Hermione had elected to take Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, Advanced Transfiguration, Advanced Charms, Advanced History of Magic, Advanced Herbolody, Advanced Astronomy, Advanced Potions, Advanced Arithmancy, Advanced Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, Physical Defense, and Advanced Muggle Studies.

She had potions with Professor Slughorn first thing in the morning.

"Good morning, students. Welcome to Seventh Year Advanced Potions. Does everyone have the required materials? Please read through the syllabus. We will begin shortly."

Hermione mentally scoffed in disgust at the list of potions that they would be learning.

Professor Snape had taught her nearly all of these by fifth year. Some of the others they had dabbled in sixth year with Slughorn.

Pathetic.

"Now I'd like to begin by having you all identify the potions on this table," Slughorn said.

Hermione's hand shot up into the air. Harry rolled his eyes. This was classic Hermione. Stick her in a classroom, and she shall flourish.

"Yes… Miss Dumbledore! Please tell us, if you know any of these potions."

"The first one is Vertiserum."

"Excellent! Five points to Ravenclaw. Does anybody know-"

She shot her hand up again.

"Vertiserum is a potion that when brewed properly allows the administer of the potion to get the truth from the person who drinks it. Vertiserum is useful because it is clear, and tasteless, like water. It is hard to brew, and many cannot brew it at all. Lastly, Vertiserum is illegal to administer without specific permission from the Ministry of Magic, and in non-criminal cases, the drinker of the serum."

Harry rolled his eyes again. Typical.

Slughorn blinked in surprise, "How very Ravenclaw of you, Miss Dumbledore. Fifteen points to Ravenclaw. Can you identify the rest of these potions?" he asked curiously.

Tom Riddle's eyes bore into Hermione's back, but she named them anyway.

"The second potion is Felix Felicis, or Liquid Luck. It takes six months to brew and allows the drinker to have a day of perfect luck. It shouldn't be taken too often because it has side effects of singing, whistling, giddiness, and disastrously reckless behavior that can result in death. It is illegal to drink Liquid Luck before any type of tournament.

"The third is Draught of Living Death. This potion makes the drinker replicate death in every possible way. It can also kill small living creatures, such as plants and leaves. It is exceedingly difficult to brew, and many attempts can be disastrous.

"The last potion is Amortentia. It's a love potion, _the_ love potion. It's the strongest in the world. Nothing can truly replicate love, but this potion is as close as it can get. It causes a powerful obsession and infatuation. Amortentia is known for its distinct pearl sheen and spiral steam. To each drinker, it smells different. I smell… parchment paper, and freshly cut grass… and sandalwood."

Hermione blushed before stepping back.

"Nice job, 'Mione," Harry whispered.

She grinned.

"Impressive, Miss Dumbledore! Thirty points to Ravenclaw. Now, today we will be brewing Amortentia."

Hermione gaped. A love potion? With _horny, stupid _teenagers?

Some of the girls giggled.

"First, seat assignments!"

"Mulciber and Parkinson. Weasley and Longbottom. Potter and Greengrass. Prince and Lovegood. Dumbledore and Dumbledore."

For a reason that Tom couldn't explain, this made him angry. He didn't want Hermione working with _anyone_ besides him. He didn't even want her _looking_ at anyone else. He remembered kissing her soft skin. She smelled of cinnamon, and vanilla with a distinct sweet sugary smell. She was delicious.

"Sir," Tom drawled in respect, "I don't mean to be invasive, but wouldn't it be more prudent to allow the new students to mingle with other students rather than each other?"

Slughorn paused. "Splendid idea, Tom, as usual! Miss Dumbledore and Tom, you shall work together! Now, Mr. Dumbledore and Black…" Slughorn finished the seating.

Harry glared holes into the back of Tom's head from the station behind them.

Tom turned around to smirk. Harry glared back.

"Now, Hermione, I'll get the ingredients, shall I? You can set the flame."

Hermione agreed and Tom returned moments later with the ingredients he had handpicked. Most students were too lazy, and just summoned them.

"You should all learn from the Head Boy! Hand picked ingredients are far better!"

Hermione crushed the daisy, and added the final ingredient, sliced bleeding heart flowers before stepping back and watching the potion give a small explosion.

As the violet smoke cleared, two heads leaned to look at the potion.

It was perfect. It was pearly, it gave off the spirals, and… the smell.

"It looks wonderful. Hermione, why don't you bottle it and give it to Slughorn. I'll clean this mess up!" Hermione nodded and scampered away with the bottle. Hermione returned a moment later, no wiser, as Tom put everything back into working order.

"Professor Slughorn wants to take the rest of our potion. He said that the Ministry has a fountain of it, and they take all they can get."

Tom gave a charming smile.

_She was his, and she better know it._

* * *

"He's planning something, Hermione. I know it. He's trying to get close to you! Haven't you noticed? The way he looks at you?"

"Of course he is," Hermione agreed, "The question is for what reason?"

"He thinks we are Dumbledore's children. He wants to get rid of him, remember? He wants to use you. I know it."

"That isn't enough, Harry. It has to be something more. Maybe…"

"No, Mi. He couldn't have. It's impossible."

"He's a legilimens! He could know."

"But he doesn't!"

"How would you know?"

"Because! He would be using it against us! That's what Slytherins do!"

"No you tosser, Slytherins use things to their _advantage_. Maybe it's to his advantage not to make it known that he knows! Now, _I'm_ going to the library. I'll see you at dinner."

* * *

_How interesting!_ Hermione was presently reading a book pertaining to wandlore. She switched to a book on _Beedle the Bard_, and then finally to the book in the original ancient rune, from her bag.

"Hermione," a voice called, "I'm not surprised to see you here."

"Tom," Hermione replied as she flipped through the pages of her book.

He sat down in front of her and pulled out his own light reading.

"_Moste Potent Potions_?" Hermione asked, "An excellent read. Though, I must say that that _Potions Plentiful_ is a far more suitable choice."

_Really, now?_ "Do you think so?"

"I do."

"And why is that?"

"Well, _Moste Potent Potions_ was written by a squib, and so many of his directions are useless, and inaccurate. For example, sopophorous beans should be _crushed_ in order to drain more juice from it."

Tom leaned on his fist and stared at her. "That does make sense, doesn't it? I must read it then."

Hermione gave a stiff nod and looked back down at the book of tales.

Tom was intrigued by the sounds that Hermione made as she read. She made sounds of wonder, and occasionally delight as she translated the book.

"Is that an original copy?"

Hermione looked up, "Oh. Yes, it is. It's an original of _Tale of Beedle the Bard_. I've been working on translating the entire thing for weeks now."

"It's already been translated."

She cocked her head to the side, "Not accurately though, in the least. Many of them have been altered to be more suitable for… _children_. Professor Loharr gave me permission to use this as my N.E.W.T project."

Tom was amazed, solely for the reason that she wasn't a simpering house witch, and she certainly wasn't stupid. Hermione Dumbledore was as clever as they came.

"'Mione?" came a voice.

Tom successfully hid his disdain.

Harry came into view and slid into the seat beside his "sister".

"What books did you use to cross-reference for our essay on the Patronus Charm in Merrythought's class?" Harry didn't acknowledge Tom. Why should he?

"_Professor_ Merrythough, Harry. Honestly!"

"Yeah, sorry."

Suddenly, Hermione cocked a brow in wonderment, "Harry, you did your homework?"

Harry glared, "Yes. I _always_ do my homework, 'Mione."

'_Mione? Who told him he could call her that? Not me!_ Tom fumed from across the table.

"_On time_?" she stressed, "_Early_! Let me see."

She snatched his essay and hummed in agreement a few times. His paper wasn't even bleeding when she was done.

"You made an excellent point about the memory being less strong than the feeling for the charm. I think there's more information in _Light Magick: A History of Magic Preferred. _ That would be over in the history of magic section under defensive charms 'patronus'. The library is categorized by-"

"Subject, Mi, I know. Thanks."

Tom cleared his throat in annoyance at being ignored. He was Lord Voldemort. All Slytherins should bow to him, "Dumbledore."

"Riddle."

As Harry left, Hermione turned to Tom, "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"You know exactly what I mean," Hermione hissed as she gathered her things and stormed away.

Harry took this chance to reappear. "Stay away from my sister, Riddle. She doesn't need someone like you in her life."

* * *

Tom walked through the hallways with a deceivingly calm look on his face. _Harry Dumbledore will get his comeuppance! _His face twisted into a sour frown.

Then a familiar laugh rang through the hallway.

"Harry! You can't say things like that," she said giggling.

"Well, it's true, isn't it? I can't say he's a pleasure to be around."

"_Harry_," the voice said sternly, but with laughter, "We're going to be here for a while. It's no use making enemies this early. What if we never go home?"

Surely Hermione could not be considering leaving… Could she?

"'Mione, we're going home. We can't stay here forever."

"It's almost nice though, isn't it?"

"How so?"

"It's just you and I. We're spending real time together… It's good to be together without the threat of… R-Ron or the war hanging over our heads."

"I'm really sorry about that, 'Mione. I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay, Harry. You don't need to apologize. It wasn't your fault."

Tom heard a silence and then the distinct sound of lips smacking.

"I'll be going back to my dorm now, Harry."

"I'll walk you. Never know what beasts lurk the halls this late at night."

Tom rounded the corner and caught up with them.

"'Mione! And… Dumbledore. What are you doing up after hours, Dumbledore? I'm sure you know curfew was fifteen minutes ago. You should be in the dorms _now_. We wouldn't want our house to lose any points, would we?" he sneered.

"It's okay. Harry came to get me from the library. He wanted to walk me. It's my fault, Tom."

Tom eyed her before agreeing.

"To your dorm, Dumbledore, before I change my mind."

"But-"

"_I'll_ walk her to the dorms. _After all, you never know what beasts lurk the halls this late at night_."

Harry gave him an angry glare before storming back to his own dorms.

Hermione gave Tom a stern gaze. "Hmph!" she flipped her hair and also barreled away.

"'Mione!" Tom called after her, "What about our rounds?"

She froze and turned a heated eye to him, "My name is _Her_mione_!"_ and she stormed off again.

Tom's eyes became slits after the Head Girl.

"Does she really think she can walk away from me?"

_Well if she does, she has another thing coming._

In the midst of being pursued by the Dark Lord, Hermione Dumbledore, what will you do?

* * *

Sufficiently interested? Will you keep reading? Will you review? Tell me what you think. I'll update soon for sure!

- Queen A


	2. Blue Velvet

Hey guys! I've got the next chapter of Young & Beautiful all set to go. Chapter three is being written as we speak! Hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner rather than later! :) Enjoy this chapter and don't forget to review!

* * *

For the next week, Tom made a point to follow Hermione everywhere, demanding her attention. He came with her during their rounds, and even held her books for her between classes.

"Listen, Tom, I appreciate what you're doing, but you don't need to go through the trouble. In fact, I'd rather you not."

Hermione wasn't stupid. Half of the female population was waiting for a chance to kill her in her sleep.

But he ignored her, and did it anyway. So, when Headmaster Dippet summoned Hermione and Tom to his office to inform them that there would be a Yule Ball that winter season, Tom began to plot.

Hermione was nice, too nice in his opinion. Many boys would seek to ask her to Yule Ball, after all, she was very smart and witty, not to mention that he was not the only male in the school to notice that she was gifted in the glorious assets on her front and back.

As long as she walked with Harry, no boys would ask her. Also, they had begun to fear Tom Riddle who had staked a public claim to her. She didn't know, but Tom had been sure to tell his friends that Hermione was spoken for. Naturally, the entire school knew.

"She's _my_ witch. She belongs to _me_," were the words he had said. They had spread like fire, and soon all the boys in Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Gryffindor knew not to make a move on Hermione Dumbledore. They were far too frightened of Tom Riddle to speak to a witch that belonged to him.

However, there were several boys (including Abraxas Malfoy, Connor Brown, both Henry_ and_ Charlus Potter and several stupid Hufflepuffs) that still pursued her, much to Tom's great annoyance.

Charlus Potter had even gone far enough as to take the seat that Tom had usually occupied next to Hermione in nearly all of their classes. He had even gotten her to sit at the filthy Gryffindor table with his blood-traitor friends Prewitt and Weasley!

That night, Tom set his plan into motion. As the Great Hall buzzed with life during dinner, Tom discretely spoke a spell that would trigger his great surprise. Suddenly, the lights dimmed and beautiful butterflies flew across the ceiling, leaving behind words in their absence that sparkled like diamonds.

_Hermione, Yule Ball? – Tom_

All of the girls around her let out squeals asking her questions and giggling as they congratulated her. Stuck like a deer in headlights, Hermione was forced to nod at Tom helplessly.

_Excellent._

* * *

Hermione burst into tears as soon as she entered her common room. She had raced straight from the Great Hall fighting the tears that were coming without reserve. Tom had left hot on her heels, entering their rooms just after her.

Hermione had made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with him. How could he do something like that to her?

"Hermi-"

"Leave me alone," she shrieked at him, "Of all the nerve! I can't believe that you would spring that on me in front of the entire school. Forcing me to attend Yule Ball with you will _not_ make me like you!"

Tom's face contorted to one of rage.

"You will not speak to me that way!"

"I'll speak anyway I like!"

"No one will speak to me that way! I will not allow it!"

"I'm a free witch, Riddle! I'll do as I please!"

"You won't!" he roared, "You do as _I _say!"

"I will not!" she yelled back. Her rage was taking the best of her, even though she knew it to be foolish to argue with the future Dark Lord.

Riddle twitched before raising his wand at her quickly.

As she backed away she stumbled over the coffee table that furnished the center of the common room. She hit the floor sharply.

Agony.

Worse than Ron leaving her.

Worse than anything she had ever felt.

"Do you feel that, Miss Dumbledore? That is the _Cruciatus _curse. I would normally not use this on someone as _pretty_ and obedient as you. But you're not being either of those things right now, are you? We're going to the ball together, Hermione, and you will be happy to go with me. You will put on a beautiful dress and you will hang on my arm_."_

* * *

Hermione was diligently watching Harry try out for the quidditch team. "Go, Harry! Go!"

"Your brother is an excellent seeker," a Slytherin seventh year named Cecilia Rosier pointed out, "He's sure to make the team."

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "Harry was on the team at our old school. He was captain last year."

"I can tell by your jersey."

"Oh, it's Harry's."

"I realize that."

Hermione turned her attention back to the quidditch tryouts and tapped her foot anxiously. Tom was across the pitch staring at her. He was doing it so obviously that every one of the girls around her noticed.

"…at you so hard… weird… why… Hermione. Hermione?"

"Uh, what?" she asked as she returned her focus to one of the girls beside her.

"I said Tom Riddle is staring at you so hard and it's really weird because he doesn't usually do that. Why would he all of a sudden change like that? It's weird."

Hermione bit her lip. "I honestly have no idea, CeCe."

Tom's gaze darkened on her and she noticed a flash in his eyes before something pushed at the front of her head. She shot up her barriers quickly and turned her gaze to shoot him a murderous glare.

His face remained stony.

* * *

"Lucy," Hermione said in exasperation, "It's _just_ Yule Ball. I don't need all this!"

"Hermione," Lucille Greengrass rolled her eyes. "You're going with _Tom Riddle_."

"Yes. I realize this."

"He asked _you_," Lucille pointed out.

"I know. I was there."

"Which means you have to look your best."

"It's only Yule Ball."

"With _Tom Riddle!"_ Lucille screeched. "He likes you! Out of any girl…"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He doesn't like me, Lucille. He only asked me to piss me off."

"No way, Hermione. He asked because he likes you!"

"Ew. I'm done with this. I'm leaving. I'll see you later, Lucy."

* * *

Hermione sat in front of the mirror, combing out the ridiculous snarls that had occurred in the shower that morning. As soon as they were gone she pointed her wand at her head and spoke clearly, "Crispum aequabis."

Before her eyes, her frizzy mess of curls smoothed down into the curls that she had maintained since Yule Ball. The crisp curls were now manageable and she put on her favorite blue and silver headband. She picked a few pieces of lint from her skirt and straightened her tie before walking down the stairs to the Head Common room.

When she got to the breakfast table, Tom Riddle was already sitting there. His plate was empty.

"Good morning," he said quietly.

"Good morning," Hermione replied.

Tom noted that she did not say it with spite, but did not say it as friendly as she once had.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I slept alright," Hermione said, "and yourself?" she added politely.

"The same."

Hermione dug into her bowl of fruit and bit at the spinach omelet sitting in front of her.

"Listen, Hermione-" the Head Boy began.

Hermione looked at him dryly.

"I'm really sorry."

Tom Riddle apologizing? Hearsay.

"Sorry that you did it? Cursing me or asking me to Yule Ball? Because you should for both." Hermione said in an unusually venomous tone.

Tom choked.

"I know you wouldn't take it back. You would have gone back and done it again!" Hermione exclaimed, standing from her seat. "Do not apologize to me, when you do not feel an ounce of regret."

Nausea rose in Tom's stomach. Is that what it was? Regret?

* * *

Harry had been staying in Hermione's room for over two weeks. The snakes, having realized that he was not liked by Riddle had turned their backs on him. Harry had suspected that it would happen sooner or later.

"I can't believe you conjured a piano for the common room. That's such a _you_ thing to do," He laughed one day as they did their homework.

"For you information, Harry, I did _not_ conjure anything. It was already here. I happen to enjoy playing it. Maybe I will even teach _you_ how to play. After all I taught R-"

Her words died on her lips before she choked and looked at her hands.

Harry frowned and pulled her close. "I'm sorry, 'Mione. I'm sorry I made you choose between us. I'm sorry that I fought with him. _I am so sorry that you lost him because of me._"

"It's not your fault," she sniffed, "He left because he didn't love me enough. I feel like such an idiot. I was prepared to give everything for him, but he wouldn't for me."

Harry shook his head and hugged her closer.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

As they embraced, Tom entered the common room.

"Hermione," he said, "You have company, I see."

Hermione just looked at him.

"I've noticed that your laundry is being sent up here by the elves. Care to explain to me why I shouldn't report this?"

Harry rolled his eyes.

Hermione frowned, "Harry is my brother. There's no reason he can't visit."

"Visiting is far different, Hermione, than _staying_."

"We're not hurting anybody," Hermione said, "And it's none of your business anyway."

"It most certainly is my business. _I'm_ Head Boy. Dumbledore, go back to your own dormitory. You cannot stay here."

Hermione stood angrily, "He can and he will. Maybe if you weren't such a-a bigoted jerk, Harry would still get along with the Slytherins. It's _your_ fault. I'm not stupid!"

For a moment Tom was shocked. Even after feeling his curse, Hermione Dumbledore was going to argue with him? He smirked. "What's it to you?"

"He's my brother!" shrieked Hermione in anger, "Of course it matters!"

Tom leaned in the doorframe, "There's something… different about you two. You call each other siblings. I think you're lying."

Hermione looked at him in annoyance.

"And what brings you to this brilliant conclusion, oh wise one?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Tom narrowed his eyes, "You act _far_ too _close_ to be siblings. I don't see any conjured bed in here. Have you been sharing?" And with that he spun on his heels and left in a flurry.

"Shit," Harry began.

"He knows."

* * *

Hermione sat in the back of library. It was her favorite place, he realized. She spent more time there than she spent anywhere else, save her classes.

Today would be the day that he would proposition her. He knew what her answer would be of course. However, with time, he would change her mind. Soon she would want everything that her could give her.

He would give her the world if it meant she would bow at his feet.

He sat down silently in front of her.

He knew she knew he was there, but she was ignoring him.

"Hermione, darling, it will do you no good to sit here and ignore me. I won't leave until I have your full attention."

Hermione sighed in annoyance and looked up from her heavy tome. "What could possibly be so important that you've come here?"

Tom smirked before crossing his fingers and sitting back.

"I've noticed that you're a rather remarkable witch, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes and glared at him fiercely.

"Forgive me if I don't take your compliments," she responded before tapping her fingers on the table. "What did you really come for?"

"You," he said in a low voice. "You pretend to be an innocent little angel. I know better, darling. I see beyond this mask you've put up to your annoying _brother_ and nosy father. You've got a darkness in you. I see it plain as day."

She looked at him skeptically. "That's nice, Riddle. You can leave now."

He leaned in closer. "Join me."

She scoffed, "Pretty presumptuous of you to assume that I knew all about you and your little club of Slytherin minions."

"Not when I was right. Join me."

"I am not a sheep, Riddle. I do not blindly follow - especially someone like _you_."

"Who said anything about being a follower?"

Hermione stared at him blankly. "What game are you playing now, Riddle?"

"You're far too powerful and _pretty_ to be a follower, darling. When I said join me, I meant join your hand with mine."

Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

"Yes, dear Hermione, become my Dark Lady."

Hermione stared at him before falling into fits of silent laughter. "You actually had me going for point five seconds, there." She wiped her eyes and picked up her things, "I'm going to bed."

"Mind if I… Slytherin?" Tom asked her receding form.

She gave an unlady-like gesture back.

Hermione slid into bed and stared at the ceiling.

She didn't sleep a minute that night.

* * *

How was it? Did you enjoy it? Tell me how you feel in a review! I read every single one! :)


	3. Body Electric

I'm sorry this took so long! It has actually been sitting on my computer finished since the 31st of August!I've just been very busy with school and I ended up forgetting to upload this! But have no fear. I don't own Harry Potter!

* * *

Christmas was fast approaching. Finals were looming upon the population of Hogwarts, and everyone was a bit frazzled. Hermione Dumbledore was more than a bit frazzled.

"You're a right psycho," Harry moaned as she handed him another timetable. "This is the sixth one you've given me."

"Well, according to the recent changes in your proficiency in-"

"Okay; I get it. I need to study more in classes I suck Merlin's left ball in."

Hermione gave a look of disgust. "Where did you pick up that vulgar curse from?"

Harry perked up a bit, "Charlus Potter is a bit of a dare devil when it comes to his curses."

Hermione sat down, "Do you think it's a very good idea to be talking to him?" she asked quietly.

Harry fell back onto the bed that Hermione had conjured for him several weeks ago.

"I don't know. On one hand, he reminds me of how-" the two looked at the door and then at each other, "He reminds me of how I think _James_ would be."

Hermione smiled sadly, "You think you'll know James if you know Charlus."

Harry nodded, "I know. It's silly."

"It's not," Hermione said, "It's life. You miss him. You never really knew him. If it were me, I would miss James too."

* * *

Tom had called another meeting.

"Malfoy," he barked, "Get over here."

"Yes, My Lord," Abraxas scrambled to get over to Tom before bowing deeply.

"I have set a task for you. You must get Dumbledore to join our _little club_," Tom said with a sneer.

"Si-Sir, not to be forward but are you not closer to the girl?" Abraxas whispered in fear.

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose, "I am surrounded by idiots. Everywhere! _Harry Dumbledore, you fool!_" he snarled. "Of course I am closer to the girl! _Quite _close," he murmured lewdly.

Crabbe and Goyle shared looks of amazement.

"Speaking of the _prettier_ Dumbledore… None of you are to allow those foolish Gryffindors to talk to her. She cannot be allowed to speak with those imbeciles. If you see them together, sabotage them. I don't care how. Just _do it_."

"If I may speak, My Lord?" asked Abraxas nervously.

Tom nodded jerkily.

"Shall I have some of the female members of our great house befriend her?"

Tom narrowed his eyes, "Finally a good idea comes from you, Malfoy. I'm impressed."

Abraxas let out a silent breath of relief. His master was not known for his forgiving temperament in the least.

* * *

Hermione stared at the tiles of the wall in the Head Dorm shower. The water had turned cold ages ago. Her teeth were chattering and her skin was icy. She couldn't feel anything. Her lips had purpled under the freezing spray.

He wanted her. At first, Hermione had assumed that he had only said what he had in order to choke her up, to get her nervous. But she had realized she was wrong. He was serious with her. He wanted her strength and her abilities on his side. He wanted her to be his companion.

He wanted to marry her.

How had everything become so messed up? How had this even happened? How did she even come to attract him? She didn't want him, didn't want any of him. Her lungs went cold just thinking about him.

The one she wanted was gone – he'd abandoned her. Hot tears dripped from her eyes mixing with the ice-cold water. She wiped them away numbly. She had never grieved – never said goodbye.

The only person she had was Harry. Dear, sweet, silly Harry. She loved him more than she loved anything in the world. He had taken care of her, supported her and believed in her. And for that she would never be able to repay him.

"Hermione?" came a voice.

She didn't answer.

"Hermione?" the voice asked again a bit more urgently.

It was Tom.

"Are you okay? You've been in there for a while."

Silence.

"I'm coming in." The door creaked open and Hermione listened as his footsteps got closer before his arm reached in and turned the water off. The other hand reached in with a towel. "Why are you taking a cold shower? You'll catch your death."

He helped her out of the shower and led her back to her room. "I'll have the elves send up some hot tea."

Hermione finally looked up and acknowledged him. "Why are you acting like this?" she whispered.

"Like what?" Tom asked.

"I know who you really are. I know you know that I know, too. Why do you bother trying to pretend in front of me? What do you want?"

Tom paused, "My offer still stands."

"My answer is still no."

"I'll change that."

"You won't."

"I will."

"You can't."

Tom leaned in the doorway before smirking, "I don't care if you do it willingly, darling. I want you. I will have you."

* * *

Harry didn't know. And Hermione wouldn't tell him. She was nervous – and slightly concerned that with this development, Harry would finally kill Lord Voldemort. It wouldn't be much use however – since he already had two horcruxes. She had to leave this time, without changing a thing. If something changed and Tom Riddle didn't become Lord Voldemort, Harry would not be born. Harry was born to be the ultimate good, to defeat the ultimate evil.

Nothing could change.

* * *

"Does anyone have any ideas on entertainment for the evening?" asked Hermione to the rest of the prefects.

They all looked at each other. "We can always do an orchestra," said Cecilia Rosier, the seventh year Slytherin Prefect.

"We've done orchestras far too many times, CeCe," replied Hermione kindly, "Let's try something different this year!"

"Maybe we could do a band," said Augusta Longbottom, the Gryffindor sixth year prefect.

"That's a brilliant idea," exclaimed Charlus Potter, "We've never done a band before."

Hermione smiled, "A band is a brilliant idea! Does anyone have any ideas of bands that we could look into?"

Tom cleared his throat, "We can always look into _The Black Magic Trio_."

Cecelia clapped her hands enthusiastically. "Their songs are wonderful! I listen to them on the wireless all the time!"

The Hufflepuff prefects all agreed eagerly.

Hermione clasped her hands happily, "Perfect! Tom and I will make inquiries. We will meet again Wednesday for new schedules, and more planning! Meeting adjourned."

The prefects all stood and lingered for a minute or two with their peers before going their separate ways. All but Charlus Potter.

"So," he said as he came closer to Hermione, who was busily packing up the things needed for Yule Ball. "Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Hermione laughed, "You know I am, Charlus."

"Would you consider, perhaps, going with me?"

Hermione stopped and looked up before smiling sadly, "Charlus, you're a fantastic catch and any girl would love to go to Hogsmeade with you."

"I'm sensing a but here."

"But… My friend – Dorea Black? You know her. She's the sixth year Slytherin Prefect. She _adores_ you. More than adores you, and I could never do that to her. Consider asking her."

Charlus laughed, "Are you sure? She seems quite enamored with your brother!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "The only thing they talk about is you. They're both obsessed!"

The two laughed heartily before Charlus hugged Hermione tightly. "I'll see you in the library to work on our project after dinner?"

Hermione nodded. "Don't forget to ask her!"

Charlus laughed, "I'll keep that in mind."

* * *

Tom was waiting for her when she got back to the common room. He stood and stared at her carefully.

She averted her eyes and gave him a strange look, "Yes?"

Tom put his fingers together in an elegant steeple.

"Potter asked you didn't he?"

Hermione frowned, "What does that have to do with anything?" she asked as she put her school bag down.

"Everything," he hissed. "You shouldn't be talking to people like him."

Hermione snorted, "Like _what_. Kind? Honest?"

Tom's eyes narrowed, "_Stupid_."

Hermione frowned even deeper than before, "That's a very mean thing to say, Tom. He isn't stupid and you well know it."

Tom rolled his eyes. "All Gryffindors are stupid. They're rash and too obvious."

Hermione cocked a brow. "Really? And are all Slytherins like you?"

"Witty, charming, good looking?"

"Annoying, waspish, arrogant?"

Tom gave a mock affronted look, "I am none of this things."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed her school bag. "_I'm_ leaving." She marched up to her room and warded the door with heavy spells as she sat down on her bed.

When had everything gotten so hard? When had everything become so muddled? Every second that they stayed here – in this time, they were ruining things even further. If she continued – Harry may never be born.

Sweet, Harry. She couldn't let that happen.

* * *

"I've failed everything. I know it!" Hermione screeched as she pulled her hair by the roots and nearly knocked her head into her oatmeal bowl.

Harry, used to this behavior just patted her shoulder and continued to eat his pancakes.

"Hermione, we both know that you haven't failed anything. I'll bet that you got O's on everything. Don't you remember our charms exam in our first year?"

Tom took this moment to sit down with them. By the look on his face, he knew he wasn't welcome. Clearly he ignored it.

"Charms exam? What happened?" He used a charming smile. Neither Hermione nor Harry fell for it.

Harry cleared his throat, "Hermione went back to our Charms professor and begged to change an answer she thought was wrong. It turns out, she had corrected it. She scored a one hundred and twelve."

The both of them started snickering. Hermione's eyes narrowed before she stamped her foot beneath the table. "It's not funny! I thought I failed."

"Yes it is so funny," Harry responded trying to keep his face serious. "You nearly had a panic attack."

Hermione whipped out her wand in annoyance, "Remember what I did to Marietta, Harry? I'm about to do that to you!"

Harry moved away nervously, pulling on his collar. "Sorry. Not funny. Not funny at all. Very serious matter."

"That's what I thought!"

At that moment both CeCe and Dorea came by.

"Hermione!" CeCe sang excitedly. "You know what time it is!"

Hermione groaned, "Why? _Why?_"

"Hermione," CeCe said seriously, "You promised!"

"Promised what?" Harry asked.

Hermione sighed, "I promised that I would let her do my hair and makeup for the ball… the minute exams ended."

"It's been twenty-two minutes," CeCe said seriously, "And look at Dorea! Charlus Potter asked her to the ball – she needs to get ready too. You know how she fancies him, Hermione." CeCe whispered conspiratorially. Then she brightened, "Speaking of, Hermione, guess who asked me to Yule Ball?"

Harry turned red and Hermione looked at him suspiciously.

"I'll see you tonight, Harry," she whispered seductively before grabbing Hermione and dragging her away.

"Witches," Harry sighed before quickly exiting the Great Hall.

Tom found himself alone.

* * *

It seemed that Lucille, Dorea and CeCe had brought the whole of the upper school Slytherins to get ready in Hermione's room.

"You've got such beautiful hair, Hermione. We can do so much with it." CeCe and Lucille Greengrass ran their fingers through the fine blonde locks.

"You've charmed it," Lucy said, "I don't recognize it. What is it?"

Hermione squirmed in her seat, "Er- I invented it. It de-frizzes hair."

From the corner of the room, Walpurga Black looked impressed.

Druella Rosier, Cecelia's 'Irish' twin sister looked very interested. "You'll have to show it to me soon. I could go for some of that on this rat's nest!"

_So that's where Bella_ _got it from, _Hermione thought.

"Clearly, Cecelia got all the beauty in the womb," she continued in annoyance.

CeCe just smiled. "It's true isn't it? I look just like mother."

Druella sneered and then scoffed.

CeCe ignored her.

"Well," declared Dorea, trying to ignore her cousins, "I think Hermione would look stunning in a braided updo!"

CeCe clapped happily. "Yes! That's perfect!"

An hour and a half later, Hermione's scalp ached, but she couldn't deny that the braid that ran around her head in a neat crown was beautiful.

Suddenly, an owl flew into the window and tapped. Druella let it in.

"It's for you," she said to Hermione, handing her the package.

_These were my mother's. May you wear them proudly tonight._

_-Father_

The girls gasped as she opened the box. There was a pair of dangling chandelier diamond earrings with a matching diamond bracelet and necklace.

"Those are lovely," Lucy said in awe, "You have to wear them!"

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm not sure. What if they get ruined? He'd be so very unhappy with me."

"He _told_ you to wear them," Dorea said. "You have to!"

All of the girls giggled and continued to preen themselves excitedly. For Hermione, excitement was far from present.

* * *

"An hour," he whispered into the air on his chambers. "Until we meet, my sweet."

* * *

What did everyone think? I hope you're enjoying the story - and this chapter! I've moved into college - over a month ago in fact! I'm living in DC now! Any DC readers? I already love college. It's so much more free and open than high school. I don't feel pressured to agree with my professors, and I really like that. Anyway, please leave a review. I read every single one, and I take your comments/wisdom into account!


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